


Out of Time

by blueelvewithwings



Series: Spanking Sunday [52]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Identity Reveal, M/M, Mickcest, No Aftercare, Non-Consensual Spanking, Self-cest, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 20:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/pseuds/blueelvewithwings
Summary: When Mick sees Chronos shoot at his partners, he doesn't even try to hold himself back, he just barges in and deals out the only punishment that comes to mind. In return, he gets to know who Chronos truly is.





	Out of Time

He didn‘t think about it, really, when he went after the guy. He‘d only seen him shoot at Haircut, and that had been enough. Anyone who‘d hurt his Haircut or his Lenny would have to pay, and pay dearly. So without thinking he jumped over a rock and went after him, getting the guy by the neck and yanking him down and tackling him to the ground. 

With a snarl, he tore the gun out of Chronos‘ hand and tossed it aside, wrangling him so he was sitting astride his back, keeping him down. 

„I ain‘t gonna let you shoot at my partners“ he hissed and got ahold of the edge of the pants that Chronos was wearing, and unceremoniously tore them away. 

„I ain‘t-“ he repeated, bringing his gloved hand down on Chronos‘ behind. „gonna let you“, followed by a second slap, „shoot at my partners.“ And a third slap, even harsher than the ones before. 

His partners were probably screaming at him already, or at least Haircut would be. Not that he cared though, Haircut would forgive him later, for losing his composure like this.

Below him, Chronos grunted and twisted, clearly trying to get away, but Mick found it all too easy to counteract whatever twist and turn Chronos would attempt under him, recognizing them as patterns of movement that he used himself, and knowing their weaknesses intimately. 

With Chronos effectively pinned down, unable to move, Mick simply went at it again, growling as he let his gloved hand fall down again and again and again. He didn’t care if it was still reasonable, really, all that mattered was that this fool would no longer aim a gun at his Haircut and his Lenny. And preferably not at any of the others too, but he didn’t much care about that. 

He didn’t hear much more than grunts and groans from Chronos, still writhing and trying to get away from him. He wouldn’t let him though, that much was clear. He wouldn’t let him get away before he had paid the price for what he’d done.

Faintly, he realised that the others had all made it safely to the Waverider, and were likely waving at him to come and join them so they could get away again, but now that he’d started, he found he couldn’t stop. Something about this guy beneath him was more than aggravating, set him off in the worst of ways. Maybe it wasn’t even the  fact that he’d been shooting at the only people Mick held dear, but there was just… something about him. Something that was so deeply unsettling, and Mick had no idea how to deal with it, so he did the only think he knew to do in these situations: he unpacked his fists. Or the flat of his hand, in this case.

Another grunt came from under him, and Mick simply brought his hand down again. He’d get this asshole to shut up at some point. He wouldn’t stand for someone like this to get close to his Lenny, and especially not his Haircut. At least Lenny would be able to defend himself still. But Haircut… Haircut was another story. He had learned to fight well enough, at least in his own opinion, but Mick didn’t trust it, didn’t like seeing him in the line of fire of someone who wanted to harm him. He was much too sweet for that, after all, too sweet to be harmed or to fight, to be ruthless. Too sweet for them, really, and still he somehow, inexplicably, wanted to stay with them. And well, Lenny and him both weren’t strong enough to say no to Haircut’s puppy eyes, so here they were.

His hand came down again, and he took a sick pleasure in how the skin under his gloves was turning redder and redder. That would teach him to go and threaten either of his partners again. 

He didn’t know when it had started, but at some point he noticed that instead of writhing under him and trying to get away still, Chronos had actually started laughing. 

The guts that that guy had.

“What’s so funny?” Mick grunted, letting his hand come down even harder. 

“You’ll be where I am, and then you’ll know”, the answer came, and Mick growled in response. He hated people who spoke in riddles. Pretentious assholes. What did that shit even mean?

“Shut the fuck up” he hissed and slammed his entire fist down on the ass in front of him. 

A pressure appeared at his shoulder then, and after a moment he realised it was a hand, grabbing his arm and dragging him away. He struggled for a bit, but then realised that it was Lenny who tried to pull him away. 

“Let’s go, Mick. We took his gun. Let’s go.” Somehow, Lenny sounded a bit more concerned than when he was trying tog et Mick out of a fire-induced trance, so Mick frowned, but let himself be dragged along. Just when Lenny had managed to make him stand, though, he turned back and looked at the prone form on the ground, scrambling to get up. On instinct, he went back there and put the boot in Chronos’ back, pushing him back down before using the tip of his boot to wedge it under the helmet and pry it off. It was always good to know your enemies, after all, to know what they looked like so you could identify them again later, when it came to a next meeting. And this Chronos would not give up on hunting them, Mick was pretty sure. 

So he held on to Lenny with one hand and kicked off the guy’s helmet with his boot before pushing his foot under Chronos’ shoulder and lifting it so he’d turn around. 

Chronos followed his movements easily enough, defiantly staring up at Mick. 

And Mick’s entire world shattered. 

There was his own face, staring back at him. His own face, full of hatred and cold calculation. His own face, eaten up by anger and revenge. His own face, devoid of any of the love he felt for his Lenny and his Haircut. 

His own face. His future self. 

His future self, who had come back at this point to try and shoot his own partners.

Mick wanted to vomit.


End file.
